Trivialities
by writing for the braindead
Summary: A collection of random drabbles, aka: drabbles that have been written while I was trying to do other things. All drabbles will be about Vanitas/Ventus; however, they'll feature other characters as well.
1. 3 Sentence Fics --

_A/N: So this is just basically going to be a drabble dump for me. (: Sorry for my inactivity._

_**Drabble: 3-Sentence Fics**_

* * *

Prompt: Canon-ish setting where Vanitas actually ends up killing Ventus early on at their first battle.

_just a game, only a game_

-x-

It's unintentional, a defense instinct, you never meant for the keyblade to hit its mark, this was supposed to just be a funny game of tag; but now Ventus is it, he is it, and you fall to the ground with his dying body in your arms and your dying body in his.

It's funny, the pain isn't pain, and he is looking up at you and his eyes glimmer with something you can't fathom, but the two of you feel like you're coming home; and when the frailness of youth dying in the heat of war has shattered like glass, shaky lips press together and the lasting spark feels like something akin to true love, but true love can't save him and can't save you, and when you two pull to look at each other, there is something steely in his gaze and you understand because you two are finally together.

Together at last, what a poor sight you two must be, holding each other into the inevitable end because two children would never survive under any circumstance when thrust in the dark, two children who would never grow up because fate was against the two, two poor children who faded into shimmers because if one went, the other followed; but amongst it all: you and he were two self-destructive children who never meant to cause harm had played the game of fate and won.

* * *

Prompt: time loop; aka, time loop where time gets reset once one or both of them die.

_record split_

-x-

Things go grayscale most days, dying over and over, the game never-ending, the inevitability of fate, forced to watch as time takes its forever toll; things go the same way all the time, they fight, they die, they fight, they die, running around and around as they are just pawns in destiny's game of life.

There are the times in between where they get to stop fighting, where the game is stopped, where harmony can be taken into account because the gamer stopped playing; in those moments, they spend their time waiting, anticipating when they'll be asked to die again and again, waiting for the day they don't have to as they run around and around the record of pain, playing the song of their discord.

But they always do, the inevitability of being players in a game in which they've never lived to see the end of; and when the blonde walks up to him to tell him, **"It's time -"**, he waits for the time where the record stops.


	2. Poetry -- Young and Beautiful

i want you, vanitas.

i want you the way the sun demands for the sky

the way the sea begs for the shore

aggressive in its desire,

wanting attention

destructively marking its claim,

wanting love

always hurting one way or another

i want to fight.

i want to fight,

blood, sweat, tears, and all –

hot summer brawls

in the heat of night,

clawing at your skin

the blaring shouting

and the screaming and its

insults that were always intended to wound

(bitter words scar and scab

but we pick at them –

we never could handle healing.)

(there's just something so

beautiful

about poking a bruise

or ripping a scab)

(the pain.)

i want more nights with my legs

pressed against yours and the

false "i don't need you"

snaking past my lips

and you smirking as you swallow

the words whole in your being

and i want the moon above us

the two of you laughing at my lies

i think about you

a lot

_a lot_

_**a lot**_

but mostly it's idle wanting

idle wanting of you next to me

our youth is dying out

time is quickly passing

(things go by too fast

these days,

too lovingly

too longingly.)

(what i wouldn't do

to go back

to the days of

hatred

and

bitterness

to the days of

fights

and

bloodshed.)

your hands on my hips

your smirk pressed against my smile

our gentle, fragile dance of love

in a room full of

cancerous smoke and summer love

everything

my memory can be foggy

but those are the things that will be imprinted in my mind

forever.

forever is a funny thing.

i want you, vanitas –,

i want you a lot

(wanting is natural and human)

mostly i just want you

you and your graceful movements

in everything you do

i have never

and will never

tell you

that i find you beautiful

sleeping through the haze of noon

blood and covered in battle scars

(i marvel at my handy-work most days…

tracing each bruise, each cut, with my index finger)

i love you most in your carelessness

your recklessness

when you throw caution to the wind

and we just kiss

like teenagers in heat

and we explore each other

once again,

as if we didn't have each other's bodies

memorized like the back of our hands

every word

i drink from your lips

a tantalizing poison

the sound of the moans

the growls

the heavy breaths

the panting

and when everything gets peripheral

that is what i will remember of our nights together

where it was nobody

just us

and the simple friction of our bodies

the language of us

so simple to comprehend

i wish i could permanently

seal myself in your memories

so that after everything that

we'll go through

we'll still remember each other

forever is a long time, isn't it?

vanitas?

(i wish that our forever

will not have us grow old together

because the moment we grow old,

we'll become as idle as wanting

something you can't have;

all of the spitfire and fights

and shouts and screams

will have been for nothing)

(no, i wish that our forever

is timeless

that our forever

will be of our youth

and loud screaming

and fists colliding

and childish beauty

and flower crowns

and summer heat)

_(will you still love me_

_when i'm no longer young and beautiful?)_

* * *

a/n: I wish I had an excuse for this but I don't. OH AND FF FORMATTING IS A DICK.


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